Tea Time
by Brookie4Cookies
Summary: (For a friend) Catherine can listen to their insults for so long. Connorxoc
It should have been simple really, Catherine thought nervously. Just another social function with the lovely ladies of Boston. Though things were different now compared to how they had been last time she'd been to a party; Miss Matthews herself was different from then as well. She was….enlightened, she liked to think. For so long she'd been sheltered from the outside world, unable to think outside her mother's parlor where she'd spent so many days sipping tea and trading gossip. Now with everything that has happened, she couldn't help but almost feel out of place.

"Catherine, darling!" A elderly voice called, and she pulled a fake smile upon her face. An older woman pulled her into an impersonal, awkward hug and Catherine couldn't help but feel so wrong doing this. There had been a time when such actions had felt so normal; she reminded herself that had been before her life had been changed, and probably for the better. "It has simply been too long, my dear! Please sit, sit!" The blonde sat down carefully on a plush seat, and found herself surrounded by familiar, yet foreign faces. They were faces of her past, not her present. It felt odd, seeing them like this.

"You have been absent so much recently, Catherine!" One of the girls chided, fluttering her fan in front of her mouth. 'To hide a sneer, no doubt…' The young woman thought grimly, though plastered her sweetest smile once again on her face. "Oh, have I? I just have been so busy as of late! I have been out in the country!" There were several gasps, and another young lady leaned in with interest in her eyes. "Oh my, you can't be serious! I can't imagine iyou/i out there!" That made the woman twitch.

"I quite love the frontier, really." She announced proudly, thinking to the serene Davenport Homestead. She was getting better by the day at the chores she'd picked up there, and it was something she took pride in. Cause one day…"I hope to move out there, I should think within year." That caused a silence that forced her to bring up her fan to hide her satisfied grin. That's what they got for belittling her! "You…you can't be serious! The frontier is no place for a lady!" One cried, looking at her as if she were mad. Another looked about ready to faint. Catherine simply fluttered her fan softly, marveling in the cool air. She hadn't worn a corset this tight in so long, and she definitely had felt that when Connor had tightened it for her.

" _This is not good for you." The assassin pointed out as his large hands slowly pulled the strings. Catherine choked out a laughed, hands gripping her vanity. She certainly had to agree with him on that one. "Thank you for the concern, Connor dear. But it's for a good reason I assure you. I have to pull my weight, and I will get us the information, this bloody contraption be damned!" Her resolute tone made the man smile a bit._

 _However his face warped into one of concern when she let out a shaky breath as he tied it off "You must be careful, your body was not meant to be constricted like this." He chided, the man straightening to his full height once she turned around. The woman took as deep of a breath as she could, and brought her hand up to the man's face, to which he leaned down so she could properly reach. The Mohawk had long since been used to the touchy ways that Catherine showed affection, and the action he now found rather soothing. She smiled at his response, and sucked in another strained breath._

" _I will keep that in mind, I promise. It will certainly stay in my thoughts; the thing won't let me forget it!" She joked, and his shoulders seemed less tense afterwards. She hated seeing him worry over her; the man had enough on his mind as it was. She was happy to push his worries away, and this was certainly one of those times. "Well, time to put on my best mask and sit through some riveting gossip~!" She chirped, the sarcasm evident in her voice. There was a snort behind her, and she smiled even wider._

The conversation went on and on, and while there had been a time where she had found subjects like the latest trends from the continent and the various engagements of local women intriguing….this was utterly bland now. Oh how she wished she could join Connor on his hunt for templars! Or even yet, practice her climbing skills in the forest with him! She realized then that most of the activities she enjoyed now included the assassin, and the thought made her giggle a bit to herself. However the very people boring her to death ruined her lovely moment.

"Is this about that man you've been seen with?" The question brought Catherine back to attention, and her eyes widened slightly. "Whatever do you mean?" She questioned, though she was already sure of the answer. The other women looked around at one another, and the blonde had a feeling that this was spoken about more often than she would like it to be. That particular woman's face gave the impression that she had some sort of delicious gossip, and Catherine steeled herself. She knew exactly the poison that was going to spill, and she already was tired of it. "That man, the Indian! A friend of mine saw the two of you walking together! What would your mother think, seeing that? So dirty, and brutish! I suppose they're all like that, the animals-"

The wording was supposed to sound concerned, but there was such rude undertone to it, and the young woman's hand twitched. Oh how she wished she had her parasol with her; that would teach this tart a lesson! And then the last part was said and she about tackled the woman across the table. But she reigned in her emotions and took in a deep breath, or as deep as she could with this silly corset. "Connor." The women all seemed confused by the name. "What-" Catherine sat up straight, brown eyes piercing like a hawk's. "His name is Connor, or Ratonhnhaké:ton, if you can even pronounce that." Granted her accent was atrocious, but she was trying by George! "And he is a perfect gentleman, thank you. He is chivalrous, gentle, and always cares for my well being! And, and…" She getting so riled up that others in the room were looking at her now. But Catherine Verity Williams was far past the point of caring.

"And if I so hear you try to insult his person again, I will ruin you!" The last part was said with such vile Cat even surprised herself. She was breathing madly, and despite the fact she'd just probably ruined her reputation within this particular social circle, she had never felt more right in her life. She stood up and fixed her skirts before finally looking to the group once again. "I think I will make my leave then, ladies. I fear I feel a bit faint." With that she excused herself, marching out of the room proudly despite the social faux pas she had just committed moments prior. But as she began down the street, Catherine couldn't help but feel so incredibly giddy. However within a moment she realized something, and she gasped. "I forgot to get the gossip! Oh, bloody hell!"

00000

Connor ended up being near the outside of the city, having performed his business quickly before buying supplies for the homestead. He had been waiting for around fifteen minutes now with the horses when Catherine was spotted, having changed into her assassin's garbs. However it was not her change in clothes that alarmed him, but the grimace that marred her features. Catherine was a literal ray of sunshine, so to see her like this unsettled him. So naturally he assumed the worst.

"Who has done this to you?" He questioned, moving towards her with long strides. He looked her over for injuries, relieved to see none. That didn't mean she was not hurting however. "Was it templars? Take me to them, I can-" Catherine's hand on his arm stopped Connor, and he looked down at her once again. She looked positively livid, staring straight at his chest. Though her eyebrows furrowed in frustration, and she ended up pouting. "Connor….I didn't get it…" His own eyebrows furrowed in return, confusion on his face. But quickly he realized what she meant. It was certainly a surprise; the woman was a socialite at heart, and could play with the best of them. So the idea of her not wheedling information out of those women was strange, to say the least.

"Did something happen with them?" He questioned softly, wanting her to look at him. She stayed quiet though for another minute, and then finally she sighed and peered up at him, about ready to cry. "They….by god, they were insulting you! I just, I got so mad hearing her say it!" She cried, "The very nerve of her, saying the things she did! I was so close to clocking her right there!" She hissed, stomping her foot in aggravation. "I couldn't just sit there and, and let her call you a savage! Cause you and your people are the farthest thing from that!" She finally finished, and huffed out another breath of air.

Connor was quiet, eyebrows a bit raised at the outburst just now. He had not expected that from the girl, but…his mouth couldn't help but curve into a sincere smile. While they hadn't gotten the information they had hoped to obtain, the idea of the woman standing up for him in front of her peers warmed his heart. And while Catherine continued to mutter about the "silly tits" and how "she was most definitely not attending their high tea anytime soon", Connor leaned down to place a soft kiss on her forehead, silencing the woman completely.

She slowly brought her hand up to the spot, touching it softly before looking up at him. He noted the blush on her face not caused by her rouge, and the way her mouth opened and closed with no noise being uttered. She swallowed thickly, and tried desperately to compose herself, though really with no avail. She didn't miss the little smirk that worked its way onto Connor's face as he turned to ready the horses, and she trudged behind him, still trying to make sense of what just happened. Oh no, it was not as if she hadn't enjoyed it; the feeling was still making butterflies have a frenzy in her stomach. It was just…oh goodness, it was so forward! Connor was never one to initiate such intimacy, what with her tendency to touch people as she did. So the sheer fact he had been the one to do that was….

"By god….I want another." She admitted to herself quietly, though apparently not quietly enough. Connor turned to look at her, face hidden by the hood he'd just pulled over his head. "We need to go, the sun is going down." He pointed out, but then also remembered something. "Catherine," She looked up at him as his settled into his saddle, and pulled herself into her own. " _Niawen'kó:wa_." His native tongue rolled so smoothly off his lips, and it took a moment for the woman to scramble her tiny knowledge of it together. They started off as she struggled to remember the proper way to respond, missing the slow look of amusement the assassin was throwing her way.

" _I-Io_ Ratonhnhaké:ton? Oh goodness, that sounded so incorrect…" She babbled on about her terrible accent, and the man couldn't help but smile at it.


End file.
